A residential school gathering held in Waskaganish September 8-10 marked a significant shift in how Cree survivors and their families are overcoming intergenerational trauma. Almost 200 participants gathered at Charles Hester’s family fishing camp known as Hesterville.
“We wanted to do something different than previous residential school gatherings,” explained Hester. “If there were skills the survivors never got the chance to learn from their grandparents or parents, we tried to work with them to restore what was lost.”
While the three-day gathering featured many survivors talking about their residential school experiences, it also delved deeper into the history of these institutions with a focus on traditional activities that people missed out on. Afternoon workshops included harvesting techniques, wood carving, decoy making and cooking bannock on a stick.
As Hesterville is famous for its smoked fish and shashdutshaan (caviar), teachings about fish preparation were especially popular. Established 10 years ago by Hester’s father, the camp he runs with his siblings is increasingly popular with tourists and employee outings organized by Cree entities.
“It was a lot of work, but people are already talking about next year,” said Hester. “People loved the smoked fish and caviar – we could fill their cravings. I didn’t participate as much as I wanted to because I had to harvest fish.”
As most recent gatherings have been held in Chisasibi, this event was an opportunity to highlight Waskaganish’s unique history with residential schools. Hester became involved because his wife sits on the local wellness board, which was asked to coordinate it. Lead organizer Elaine Stephen expressed gratitude for all the positive feedback.
Elder Joe Weistche spoke about his experience while recalling that his father was one of 12 boys who were the first community members to be taken by boat to residential school. The gathering also brought attention to the parents and children of those removed from their communities.
An emotional moment came during a blanket ceremony to honour Elders whose children were abducted. As they had been prevented from putting their children to bed, they were now wrapped in a blanket, symbolizing protection, community connection and their children coming home for good.
“We talk a lot about the children’s experiences, but I didn’t forget about the parents,” said local survivor Susan Esau. “I’m a mother and grandmother and know what they must have felt when they were left alone all of a sudden. I was raised by my grandparents and three of us went at one time.”
Esau was sent to one of Fort George Island’s two residential schools at age 8, her first time away from her family, encountering “these strange people dressed in black robes.” She knows others who were taken as young as three.
“Residential schools tried to take away our identities, culture and language,” Esau asserted. “I became very angry when I left residential school and felt like I didn’t belong with my family because I didn’t know the culture. I didn’t know that identifying your culture, spirit and language as being part of you is what makes you stronger.”
Esau turned to drugs and alcohol to escape her painful memories. Her healing journey began in 1989 when taking her son to an addiction-treatment program in Alberta. Listening to an Elder, Esau realized that “spirituality is our personal connection to a higher being and not these rituals in church.”
As Esau got sober and devoted herself to helping others, she coordinated one of the region’s first residential school gatherings in Waskaganish in the early 1990s. With many community members having never spoken previously about their experiences, a flood of emotional testimonies came one after the other.
“Boy, did we open a can of worms,” she remarked. “Our counselling service was going 24 hours a day because people had not dealt with these issues. I got a call at 3am because there was a woman who didn’t speak English or Cree.”
Esau loved this recent gathering and its emphasis on traditional teachings, which long faced stifling opposition from Waskaganish’s five churches. Her attempts at co-organizing the community’s first traditional powwow in 2018 were so controversial that a referendum was called.
“In the 1970s, Waskaganish had this influx of the Pentecostal religion, telling us the same thing we were told in residential school,” Esau recalled. “They’d never experienced traditional ceremonies and they already said it was evil.”
Witnessing her first walking out ceremony 20 years ago, Esau is happy these rites of passage are now common, “reinforcing the roots of our culture.” She enjoyed the workshops, noting that a capsule of skunk oil taken in a traditional medicine demonstration cured her cold almost instantly.
On the gathering’s last day, Esau delivered a presentation called “Restoring Hope”, following James Bobbish’s speech about caring for the living Cree language and Cree singing by Victoria Hester and Mary Bear.
The research group Know History is working with the community to design a memorial monument to recognize the impacts of residential, day and boarding schools. An accompanying book recording stories of survivors and their families is also in the works, with both targeted for completion by September 2027.
“All Cree communities should have their own monument,” suggested Hester. “We want to see actions coming out from this conference. It was talked about maybe doing a second conference geared towards the children of survivors to stop the cycle from being passed on.”